


Our World

by holyhouses (MIKTRONIK)



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Sings (Good Omens), Fish out of Water, Forbidden Love, Human Aziraphale (Good Omens), Human/Monster Romance, Hurt Crowley (Good Omens), I'm Sorry, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Love at First Sight, M/M, Merperson Crowley (Good Omens), Naga, Sea Monsters, Shapeshifting, Witchcraft, god i'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25850638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MIKTRONIK/pseuds/holyhouses
Summary: "For three whole days, the pattern remained the same: Azra would head to the beach in the wee hours of the morning, he would stand in the surf and listen to the lovely, lilting melodies of Queen and the Beatles and the Velvet Underground, and would always catch one small glimpse of a head and shoulders with what seemed to be long, dripping wet hair, or a hand stretching up out of the water, just before the figure started, halting its music, and dipped under the water, not making another appearance until the following night."
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 35





	Our World

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Nekocat (@pinkpiggy93)'s gorgeous merman!crowley fanart, which can be found here: https://www.tumbex.com/pinkpiggy93.tumblr/post/616197303222616064

It was 2 am at Porthbeor Beach, and the coast was lit by an almost-full moon and completely empty save for one man, who stood silently, letting the waves lap at his toes as he stared out at the ocean with his hands tucked into his pockets. It should have been peaceful, soundless save for the eddying swirls of water rushing against the rocks.

But someone was singing bloody _Queen_ , of all things.

The man, whose name was Azra Z. Fell, who ran a bookshop in London and just happened to be on holiday during this time, sighed, casting his eyes around the beach one more time in his luckless search for the singer, who really was quite talented if he was being completely honest. Suddenly, he noticed something in the water, something shaped like the silhouette of a human head-- and as he turned to look more closely, it started and slipped under the water silently.

The singing stopped.

* * *

For three whole days, the pattern remained the same: Azra would head to the beach in the wee hours of the morning, he would stand in the surf and listen to the lovely, lilting melodies of Queen and the Beatles and the Velvet Underground, and would always catch one small glimpse of a head and shoulders with what seemed to be long, dripping wet hair, or a hand stretching up out of the water, just before the figure started, halting its music, and dipped under the water, not making another appearance until the following night.

On the fourth day, there was no singing, no lonely choruses of "Yesterday" or "You Take My Breath Away". No shy silhouette crested above the waves, disappearing under his quick glances. The only sounds were waves crashing, gulls squawking, and... whimpers?

Azra frowned, pricking his ears to listen harder. Yes, someone was definitely whimpering, in pain by the sounds of it, and the sound was getting weaker, hopeless.

"Hello?" he called.

No answer, except for the continuing pained whines.

Pebbles crunched under Azra's feet as he carefully set off toward the small, lost voice. As he got closer, he could hear little sniffles and sobs along with the whines, and quick, ragged breathing. He approached one of the rock pools, and looked down.

Splayed helplessly in the shallow pool, with his lower half folded tightly to his torso, long wet strips of dark hair draped over his face, was a man covered in blood, sobbing in agony. He shuddered with every shallow breath, sending more blood spiraling into the murky water.

"Oh, dear," Azra said, crouching down. The man's head turned, sending the hair sliding away, and his eyes shot open, fixing Azra with a terrified stare.

Azra's breath caught. He was _beautiful..._ no, not beautiful. He was the most heartrendingly gorgeous creature he'd ever seen, with a long, pointed nose, delicate lips, and eyes that, although dull with pain, were golden and glowed in the faint moonlight. His chest constricted, twisted, and his stomach briefly forgot how to exist. "Oh dear," he said again. Softer. "What happened here?" Azra asked the man gently. "Can you speak right now?"

There was a short pause as the man swallowed and tried to speak. "Shark," he finally managed, voice raw. Azra's eyes widened.

" _Shark?_ "

The man nodded.

"Oh, dear," Azra stuttered again, wringing his hands. "Oh, dear. I should call an ambulance--"

"NO!" the man croaked, lurching forward, trying to sit up but failing. "No, don't do that!"

"Whyever not? We-- we need to get you to a hospital! Did it get your leg? Should I carry you?"

"Can't. Go to the hospital." Those golden eyes were clearer now, but his mouth was still contorted in pain.

"Dear boy, you can't _not_ go to the hospital for a shark bite, whatever are you on abouuu..." Azra forgot what he was saying, mouth dropped open.

The beautiful man had unfurled himself, revealing a deep, bloody wound and... _scales._ Scales and scales and scales, pitch black, shimmering wet, tapering off. A tail, long and thin and glorious and horrible. Fins, also black, delicate, fishlike, where feet should be, fins that flicked and twitched into puddles of water, sending glittering droplets flying. Azra had forgotten how to speak, shock sending his heart pounding.

This man wasn't a man at all.

He was _mer_.


End file.
